La Belle et la Bête
by Airgid-chead
Summary: How can two seemingly emotionless people celebrate St Valentine's Day? It may end with a disaster or lead to a recognition of feelings.
1. Be my Valentine

Disclaimer: I do not own _Loveless_

A/N I know it's not Valentine's yet, but I'm going to post the second chapter on Tuesday. Also, Nisei's thoughts and opinions are solely his, I don't share them. So if you find his words offensive, keep in mind that it's just fiction, not me inflicting my opinions on the world ;) And he exaggerates. A lot. But hey, he's Nisei XD

...

**Be my Valentine **

...

- You must be joking, sensei! – a lean college student blinked at his professor.

- I am most certainly not – the teacher replied flatly, organising the papers on his desk. The class had ended and only few people remained in the classroom, packing their things or waiting to talk with their tutor about their term projects.

- What? But why should I rewrite it? – the young man was shaking his essay above the teacher's head – It's more than 30 pages long!

- It is expected to be thorough – came a calm response, causing the youngster to sigh in frustration.

- It is – he said through gritted teeth.

- I agree. But you still have to rewrite it – the professor took his briefcase, re-adjusted thick glasses and proceed to the door.

- It's fucking ridiculous! – his student shrieked, making his classmates shook their heads disapprovingly – If there's nothing wrong with it, why the hell do I have to rewrite it!

- We do not use such a crude language in this school, Akame-kun.

- I honestly admire your self-control then – Nisei smirked – And loathe I do not possess such a temper.

- Your attitude is reprehensible – the professor was already in the hall.

- Maybe you're pushing me – Nisei ran after him, mumbling.

- I am not having this talk with you, Akame-kun. I am giving you five hours to hand it in again after I finish my today's last lecture.

- Are you nu... – the teacher turned back abruptly to look sternly at his student.

- I advise you not to finish this sentence, for I believe you have already set a new record of visits in the principal's office during one term – Nisei clenched his fists – Five hours.

- Ahh! – the fighter waved his hands – Alright! But at least tell me what's wrong with it as it is now.

- It is quite simple, Akame-kun – the professor smiled – I've repeated it hundreds of times that I would not accept your works written in the Roman alphabet, for it is a respectable Japanese university.

- What. The. Heck!

- I'll see you in five hours and you'd better have it done or you won't be passing my subject – the man disappeared down the stairs leading to the school cafeteria.

- Fucking idiot! – students in the corridor observed with interest as their classmate threw his essay to a wall with remarkable force – Who do you think you are, some freaking shogun! – he yelled after the teacher – Then wake up, we have the twenty-first century, well past the Edo Period! JERK! – he kicked his own bag, sending its contents rolling on the floor.

Only when he heard someone tripping on his pen did Nisei stop his ramblings. He quickly took in his surroundings, noticing the glares focused on him, his notebooks lying all over the corridor and...

- Oh, crap! – he spotted a grey mobile in the corner. When he picked it up, the screen was black – Seimei will be mad – actually, he was quite sure his Sacrifice would be furious, after all he'd told him to be extra careful with the phone he'd lent him.

- I believe these are yours – he was still crouching when a gentle voice came from behind him. A guy he recognised as one of his classmates was there, showing him his books.

- Yeah, thanks – Nisei gracefully stood up, taking his possessions back – Haven't you seen my essay too, by the way? – he inquired sheepishly.

- Isn't it over there? – the guy pointed ahead and trotted after Nisei to retrieve it – Why would you throw it away?

- I didn't exactly throw it *away* - the fighter corrected, checking if none of the pages were missing – I just threw it.

- It's all the same – his classmate was puzzled.

- No. When you throw something you intend to take it back and when you throw something away you're getting rid of it – the fighter slowly explained.

- If you say so – the guy didn't seem to be convinced – What's wrong with it that sensei didn't mark it?

- The letters – Nisei grunted out, mentally throttling the man.

- Huh?

- He apparently can't read the Roman alphabet, hijo de puta – how nice it would be to make the teacher hang himself, so funny – I'll gladly feed him an encyclopaedia.

- But isn't it only natural to write in kanji? – the guy furrowed his brows.

- No – Nisei made a face – You Japanese are so bothersome, you've created up to three different ways of writing one word.

- Of course we haven't. If they are written differently, they are different words.

- They sound the same – Nisei huffed – I don't get it, how do you know when a sound makes one syllable and when two? I mean, when you write 'Ni-sei' and when 'Ni-se-i'?

- It's quite obvious. You speak Japanese and don't know that? – came a surprised reply.

- I always get it wrong – Nisei smiled cutely – I seem to be unable to memorise all the alternatives – he'd been getting rebuked or hit for that by Seimei constantly, but nothing had ever worked. It was just one of those things his mind couldn't grasp – That's why I use the Roman alphabet, it's so much easier.

...

Yeah, it was easier, only kind of lost its shine when he had to rewrite 34 pages of text. He'd found a quiet place in a library to get down to it and had already prepared four dictionaries to help him. It was still hopeless, his kanji were unintelligible, his writing awkward, forcing him to start from the beginning again and again. Why did Mimuro have to come down with flu? He could help him, as usual, if not with writing then at least with his nerves, snapping pencils did little to calm him down. And he was dreadfully aware that Seimei would be punishing him not only for breaking his mobile but also being late.

- Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! – he jumped up, tearing the paper after making yet another mistake – How can I focus in here? – he looked around, then slumped down – Riiight, Akame, as if you need someone to distract you, you're doing an awesome job yourself. It'd be so much fun to play with that idiotic sensei, making him slit his own wrists, or better, jump from the school's roof or... Concentrate, Akame! – he hit himself on the forehead – Snotty brats can do it, then why wouldn't you? You can cast spells, that's hundred times harder... Jesucristo, I've got half an hour left! I'm so getting expelled, Mimuro's going to have a helluva work to convince them to give me another chance... But that's his problem, he needs to stay on my good side... Stupid country and stupid people! – he tore a rubber.

Finally, a librarian kindly asked him to leave.

He ended up leaning against the back gate, smoking. He still had about twenty minutes to meet the professor. Nisei actually intended to head home, but the prospect of explaining himself to one angry Aoyagi unleashed a strong urge for nicotine in his body. Well, he'll deal with him, he already had a conception how to apologise in a way that would be pleasant for both of them. When he was putting the cigarette out, a new idea popped in his mind.

- I'm a genius! – he grinned and dashed to the bathroom. Thankfully, no one was there, so he immediately began putting his plan into action. He took the essay out, placed it on a window still and chanted:

- Rhymes of the West are caressed by the Rising Sun of the East – the ink from the papers blend together only to transform into perfect kanji characters.

- Now, *that* was pretty easy – Nisei smirked, bending down to collect the pages.

The professor couldn't hide his surprise when Akame caught up with him at the school entrance.

- Congratulations. It's incredible that you've managed to finish in time.

- Oh, easy – Nisei chirped – I simply have a way with words, that's all.

...

The word 'furious' had stopped to describe Seimei some two hours ago. He had tried to be reasonable and tolerant, he'd really tried, but where had his idiotic fighter managed to disappear for more than five hours? He was well aware of Nisei's erratic behaviour, it didn't even bother him much anymore, but his patience had reached its limits.

It was February-fucking-14th and he was set on celebrating their first St. Valentine's Day together! Only Nisei screwed everything up. Seimei had long ago thrown their 'romantic dinner' to a bin, followed by a heart-shaped box of chocolates. How could he'd been so naïve? It was obvious his fighter didn't care.

- Idiot – he repeated to himself. He wasn't even answering his calls.

Then, the front door opened and Nisei tip-toed to his bedroom. Was he trying to avoid him? Or rather, for what reason?

- Come here! Now! – Seimei snapped.

Nisei's tentative steps changed direction and soon he was standing in front of his sacrifice, smiling stupidly.

- Missing me much? – the fighter grinned cheekily.

Aoyagi's eye twitched slightly.

- Where have you been? – he asked icily.

- Mmm. Here and there – Nisei seemed to be making up some plausible story – At school mostly, that moron of the teacher was at it *again*, I can't understand why he likes me sooo much... Is it for my sexy body, hmm, Seimei? – he thrust his hips up a little. Seimei usually found it amusing when he was flaunting his good looks and he desperately wanted to get him in a kinder mood.

- Stop this nonsense – this time, however, it didn't seem to work. Did Seimei wish him to tell him about his day then?

- He made me stay after classes to... – he began, gesticulating.

- Shut up – the freezing tone actually took him aback. Was it some sort of game he didn't understand the rules of? – And kneel down – Seimei motioned to the floor in front of a chair he was sitting on.

- Sure, Seimei wants to play – he seductively lowered himself to that spot and leaned towards his sacrifice's crotch – You should've said it...

Before he could even touch a zipper his head reeled back from the force of a blow, causing him to sit on his heels.

- What was that for? – he stuttered in a faint voice.

- I've ordered you to shut up – Seimei stood up, making Nisei lean back – And I don't want you to touch me.

Nisei looked up at him with big pupils. Why didn't Seimei wish to be touched by him? Hadn't he told him he'd loved his delicate caresses only a day before?

- You really are low – Seimei continued with disgust – Sex is the only thing you care about, isn't it? Just like an animal.

Nisei furrowed his brows. If anyone was being low in here, it was Seimei with his comments! He opened his mouth to disagree.

Once again, he got slapped.

- I can see I was neglecting – Seimei said in a dangerous tone – A punishment has been long overdue – he proceed to backhand his fighter, dazing Nisei at first, but then the fighter managed to grab the hand hitting him.

- ¡Basta ya! Stop, it hurts! I'm sorry, ok? Oi! – Nisei shrieked at having his thin wrist twisted.

- You know it's far too lenient a discipline for raising a hand against your Sacrifice – Seimei reminded him in a malicious way, stopping to squeeze the wrist only when he heard something snapping inside.

Nisei howled, cradling the wrist to his chest, trying to scramble away, sending Seimei a terrified, betrayed look.

- Get out – Seimei snapped – I don't want to bear your presence a minute longer.

The fighter managed to obey, with a support of a wall. He scurried down the corridor to his own bedroom.

- How thoughtless of you not to close the door – Seimei observed, going to do it himself. When he was taking a hold of a handle, he heard some muffled sounds coming from his fighter's room – What now – he huffed frustrated, not wanting to admit even to himself that he'd come to feel for the nuisance. He strolled down the corridor and forced the door to Nisei's bedroom wide open.

Inside was a total mess, nothing surprising, clothes all over the floor and furniture, empty mugs standing on a desk in a line, papers literally everywhere but in a waste bin. He spotted a huddled figure of his fighter on a bed in something akin to a nest made of quilts and pillows. Before he could ask Nisei to quit being unreasonable a pinkish thing standing in the corner caught his attention.

- What's that? – he nudged Nisei's head.

- A bouquet – the fighter tried to pry a hand away from his hair, clearly irritated.

Seimei let go, choosing to inspect the flowers instead.

- What is it doing here? – he rubbed a smooth petal of a purple orchid.

- Standing, obviously – Nisei gave him a 'duh' expression.

- But why is it here? – Seimei corrected his question, too absorbed with exquisite flowers to scold his fighter. They were beautiful, rich exotic orchids of various colours, from white and light green to almost crimson ones.

- I bought it – came a cautious reply. Nisei always sounded like that when he couldn't guess what the expected answer was.

- Why would you buy a bouquet? – Seimei gave him a calculating glare. Nisei had a habit of buying useless things, but he had never brought home a bunch of flowers before. Sure, he'd already had a window still full of orchids (the only plants he was capable of taking care of – after all, they needed to be watered only once a week) but he was never fond of cut ones, saying it was a waste of fine flowers.

- To give it to my lover – Nisei spat sourly, giving Seimei a hard glare – I thought the Valentine's was a great occasion to do it, but all I got was a trashing – he grimaced.

- You intended to gift them to me? – Seimei was caught off balance.

- Yes – Nisei made a disgusted face – I wasn't sure if you celebrate the Valentine's or consider it a western commercial idea, but I decided I don't actually need a reason to give you a present. Sorry I assumed there is something between us, other than a fighter-sacrifice bond.

Seimei was gaping at him for a moment, but got a hold of himself rather quickly.

- You think I'm your lover – it was a statement.

- I've been taught to believe a person who says that he loves you and makes love to you is your lover – Nisei got that betrayed face again – Another cultural difference.

- What cultural difference? – Seimei's mind was in too much turmoil to say anything else. Nisei thought him his lover even though he treated him worse than dirt? Worse, did he believe it was normal? Was his mind faulty enough for this?

- It seems somebody above is set on proving to me today that a gap between the West and the East is far too wide for me to cross. As if the boundaries between us weren't enough – the fighter mused with glossy eyes.

- What *that* has to do with it? – Seimei shot - *What* happened, Nisei? Tell me.

The fighter shrugged and for a moment it was clear there wouldn't be any other response.

- School happened. I had to rewrite 34 pages of my term essay because I didn't have it in kanji and it's a fucking *offence* to hope a Japanese would read the Roman letters. I spent almost five hours getting it all changed, only to be rebuked by my other professor on the way home because I *dared* to try to shake his wife's hand rather than bang my forehead on a pavement – Nisei scoffed, tugging strongly at the quilt with his good hand.

Seimei snickered.

- A small bow would be sufficient – he demonstrated, earning a light push from his fighter.

- I fucking hate this country! – Nisei screamed desperately – I hate how I have to bow three times before I can order at a restaurant, how everyone does something funny with my name, adding all that –kuns, -sans, -chans and whatever rather than say it in a normal way. I hate it how taxi drivers are all polite and helpful when I'm trying to stuff five suitcases on their backseats rather than tell me to go find a truck or how they won't ask any typical taxi-drivers questions like 'Have you ever been to the city before? No! Then you have to visit...' or 'Don't you think those stupid democrats are going to ruin this poor country? Of course you do, sir! Everyone with brains do! They're going to make us beg those stick-up-their-asses upstarts in Brussels for help!'. Or how the regular drivers are so concerned about my well being when I almost crash into them on my Vespa rather than curse me, scream bloody murder and yell for the police.

Seimei wasn't sure how to act. Should he ridicule the fighter? Or offer some advice? Or... Hug him? How was it possible that he, great Aoyagi Seimei didn't know what to do?

- But what I hate the most – Nisei voice grew quiet and meek – Is that I can't do anything right for you. I can't do your Japanese thing about respect and loyalty you've been preaching me about rather than simply love you. I'm so obtuse, Seimei, I know. You don't even have to remind me of that. I can only love you in the plainest way there is, with my heart beating faster whenever you're near, my mind fantasising about endless nights of lying under the stars, gentle hugs, protecting you however I can not only in battles but also against everyday problems, like facing an unpleasant librarian. I hate it how I can't help but want to possess your heart, to be the only one for you, even though you've been telling me that I should not desire such things for it's not my place... I hate it how I can't give you my heart and have you accept it, for it has belonged to you from the very beginning, because you're my sacrifice and you own me... And how my feelings mean nothing because of that – he abruptly stood up, causing Seimei to fall down flat on his arse – I'm so sorry, but please, please, leave me alone for a moment, Master – could they be tears in his eyes?

Seimei was shell-shocked. It suddenly turned up his mad fighter was far more sensitive than he'd been letting others see and that his feelings for Seimei ran far deeper than he had ever suspected. He'd had troubles at school and Seimei remembered that there hadn't been Mimuro to support him or restrain his anger. And Nisei thought his love was simple? Silly Nisei, his love was pure, almost like a child's would be (he was like a child in far too many ways, Seimei noted sadly), but apparently he didn't know that, he was convinced all that mattered to Seimei was respect and devotion... Because, honestly, they did, but only as substitutes for a far stronger emotion. They were enough with Soubi, who had never learnt what love was and he, Seimei, stupidly treated Nisei like that 'tool', not realising he was dealing with a fiery being, with a soul that hadn't been crushed, who craved nothing more than to be accepted and loved back, for he'd been told his entire life he was nothing more than a witless madman.

Seimei got up from the floor and slowly came to stand behind Nisei. The boy's shoulders were shaking quite badly and he was clearly fighting sobs.

- Nisei, turn back – Seimei commanded softly.

- Please – came a trembling whisper – Not now, please, come back later, I'll come to you in a moment, just please give me a second... – he hugged himself and started to rock back and forth.

- Nisei – Seimei gently reached to touch his fighter's back. He smiled ruefully as Nisei put his hands up, trying pathetically to block blows he was sure were coming – I'm not going to beat you. Just let me touch you – the arms lowered, but the fighter remained tense.

Then, a warm body pressed itself to his thin frame and Nisei gasped, startled. He moved his head only to see Seimei's beautiful face mere inches from his own. He quickly looked down, cheeks flushing pink. He was adorable.

Okay, he was as adorable as a person who derived pleasure from mentally torturing others can be. But that wasn't exactly his flaw in Seimei's opinion.

- What do we have here? – Seimei drawled, tilting the small head up with his hand – Such a beautiful face – he rubbed his thumb on a pouty lip – Such fine lips, but something's wrong... – Nisei bit the said lip nervously – I know! They aren't smiling! – yep, Seimei was keenly aware how silly he sounded, but he could put up with it as long as it made the other flush even more in embarrassment – And why aren't they smiling, Nisei?

- Please stop – Nisei tried to push the hand away, but Seimei had none of it.

- They are usually so restless – he smirked, wrapping his other arm around fighter's slim waist – They move constantly, talking my head off, or chirping some song, or grinning, or laughing, or just showing off those sharp teeth... And now they look as if they were dead.

- What would you like them to be doing? – Nisei asked hesitantly, pressing himself oh-so-gently into the solid chest of his Sacrifice.

- I think I'll go for smiling for now – Seimei bent down and planted a kiss to the top of Nisei's head. It was so weird to have to lower his head to kiss the highest point of his fighter's body. It would never cease to amaze him how small the other male was.

Nisei actually put some effort into smiling, but it still came out like a grimace and he was fully conscious of that. Seimei was going to be displeased, yet again. He didn't know what to do anymore, he was at loose ends and broke down into uncontrollable crying, choking on his own tears. He just never knew what Seimei wanted!

- Nisei – Seimei frowned in surprise – What's wrong now? Why are you crying? – he thought that he'd got the fighter under some resemblance of control.

- Please, let me go, hold me – could Nisei be more specific on his requests? – Tell me... What to do – he started sobbing even more violently. Seimei knew it was because he hated being ordered around – Do you want to beat me? Do you want me to go and run some errand for you? Do you wish me to leave for the night? – he hiccupped – Do you want to take me? Just don't make me guess, please...

- I want to embrace you – the sacrifice whispered, sadness colouring his voice. He was clearly petrifying Nisei, the only person he had left nowadays – Will you let me?

- You don't ask – the fighter hiccupped again, throwing himself on Seimei – Not me. I don't get to decide, you've told me so!

- But I want you to decide now.

- Yes? – Nisei started to laugh, that crazy maniacal sound that always caused Seimei to wince in disgust. This time, however, he didn't even flinch, only sighed heavily, understanding it was the last of Nisei's defences, that cloak of his insanity. He intended to see what was under it – Oh, you want me to decide! Maybe I want to see you go and throw yourself under a bus! With the pieces of what once used to be your body scattered all over a road, blood wetting the asphalt like a morning dew – he laughed again – I'll be all free, no leash to keep the doggy bound! I'll get to play...

- I don't think you want any of these – Seimei said calmly.

- What you may know, Master – Nisei sneered – I was alright on my own before.

- Really? – Seimei caught his good wrist so Nisei wouldn't hurt him accidentally. They had to get past this stage, it was the last step – When were you alright? When your parents showered you with gifts because they didn't want to deal with a troublesome child? When your classmates bullied you for your looks and daydreaming? When your brother repeated over and over again that you were brainless and therefore had to do as he told you? When you killed that sacrifice who wanted to drug and train you? When Ritsu wanted to terminate you? When you whored yourself? Or when you sit in your room, awake all night long because nightmares won't let you sleep? – he added, noticing how all colour was draining from Nisei's already pale face.

The fighter gave a pained sound, trashed wildly once more and then simply went limp in Seimei's arms. That was what the sacrifice's had been waiting for. Nisei's eyes where dull, lips parted and trembling, breaths coming out short and laboured.

Seimei sat him on a bed and kneeled on the floor in front of him. Now, he needed to play it cool. Nisei was literally naked, retreating into himself after all of his defences had crumbled. He didn't manage to bore Seimei with sulking replies, distract him with tears or scare off with the psychopath act.

'With all these masks gone, what remained?' – Seimei mused.

Apparently not much. Only a fragile being with lanky limbs, far too thin for someone his age, with an elfin face and too big eyes. It was hugging its knees and keening barely audibly.

- So, Nisei, what do *you* want? – Seimei repeated in a firm tone.

There was a look of a scared deer in those black pupils.

- Hmm? What's that?

- A hug – came a tentative reply.

Seimei complied, cradling his fighter to his chest.

- Anything else?

Nisei worried his lip.

- Would you hold me like that for the entire night? Just hugging as if I were someone normal?

- No.

Nisei whimpered, dark pits of depression swallowing him.

- I won't hug you like someone normal – Seimei shook him lightly, to get his attention – I'll hug you like someone special, my Fighter.

Nisei's eyes widened in disbelief.

- B-but – he stammered – I don't want you to fuck me, or hit me... I just want to lay down and look at you, and listen to your heartbeat, and maybe touch you a little... I don't want to talk, either – he added quickly – It sometimes makes my head ache funnily. I don't want you to pet me like a dog. I don't want to be a dog tonight – he whispered hesitantly – I'll be your dog back in the morning. You'll yell at me, beat me, but in the morning. I don't want to be a fighter tonight. You'll command me again in the morning. I just want to be a person tonight. It may be nice, being a person for few hours, I want to try it, with you – his voice broke.

- Yes, I'll try it with you – he whispered into that black hair, voice thick with unshed tears – Who knows, maybe we'll both grow to like it? – he gently laid Nisei down, wrapping himself around his thin body – May I hold your hand?

A small hand softly nudged his bigger palm.

They laid like this, looking into each other's eyes, keeping on stroking their hands and exchanging subtle hugs.

Seimei was in the process of kissing the elfin face, when the first rays of sun appeared on the pillow and caressed Nisei's hair. He regretfully pulled back, sensing the fighter's growing discomfort.

- It's morning – Nisei bit his lips – You can stop now, the night has ended.

- Maybe I don't want to stop – Seimei teased, making lazy circular motions on Nisei's hollow belly.

- Quit it, it's the end – Nisei abruptly sat up – The sun's up, the Beast won't transform into the Prince after Belle's kiss.

- I know – sighed Seimei – But that doesn't deter him from kissing his Belle again and again – he began kissing Nisei full on the mouth, making him moan and grab at Seimei's back.

...

Happy Valentine's Day ^^


	2. Aux Champs Elysées

...

**Aux Champs Elysées! **

...

Seimei rolled over on a bed and groaned. It was an awful feeling, when you knew you had to get up to school and yet your bedding was so cosy it made you want to stay in it forever. Without opening his eyes to cheat his mind into believing he was still deep asleep he reached out to grab his glasses from a bed table.

Surprisingly, there were no glasses there. Actually, there was no table but a wall. He could swear that he should be facing the table laying on his left side.

He cracked one eyelid open. Doubtlessly, there was a wall in front of him. A very solid, turquoise wall with an orange pattern painted just above the bed's mattress. The only place with that kind of walls was Nisei's bedroom.

The events of the previous evening and night crashed on him with full force.

Fuck. He'd spent the whole night caressing and embracing Nisei, had kissed him passionately in the morning, had told him all those sweet words he had truly meant only to fucking fall asleep!

He groaned once more, this time in despair. He was a hopeless lover, he could understand falling asleep after lovemaking, it was not unusual, but how to explain falling asleep while confessing his love? He knocked his forehead on the mattress and then realised Nisei was no longer in the bed.

Shit. He must have sent him into another nervous breakdown.

Seimei abruptly jumped up and lowered his legs to the floor. Only then did he notice his fighter's figure crouching on an armchair. Big black eyes were observing him keenly.

- How long have you been up? – he asked cautiously.

- About an hour – Nisei shrugged his thin shoulders – I've taken a bath.

- How long have I been sleeping? – he dreaded the answer.

- Three hours or so. You looked so peaceful I didn't have the heart to wake you up – the fighter smiled – You know, it's true what they say, young people need far more sleep. You're a year younger, so you sleep like a baby – he teased.

Seimei sighed in relief. Obviously Nisei didn't hold it against him.

But he was clearly disappointed with a lack of reaction on his part, if his pout was anything to judge by.

- What time is it?

- 9.30 – came a sulky reply.

Not good. He'd had a lecture at 8.00 a.m., his professor was bound to throw a fit.

- You know, you should have found it in yourself to wake me up – he grumbled standing up.

- You should have this, you should have that – Nisei mocked in a high-pitched tone – Mister Grumpy is never content with anything. I should have locked you in the bathroom and let out only after you've learnt how to be more grateful that I even bear with you.

- You've broken the lock in the door – Seimei pointed out heading towards the corridor.

- Pfff... – Nisei crossed his arms – True, true. Besides, how could I ever make Seimei uncomfortable? – he sent him a big grin.

Seimei didn't feel like reminding him of all the occasions he had almost sent him up the wall in frustration.

- I need to get ready to school – he said instead.

Nisei pouted once more.

- Aren't you going to unwrap your Valentine's present?

For a second Seimei was positive Nisei was teasing him in his usual way, offering himself, but he noticed how the fighter's gaze was focused on the bouquet, so it must have been something different.

He took few unsure steps in that direction and grew more confident after he heard Nisei getting from the armchair and trotting after him. They both came to a halt in front of the bouquet. Now, a 1-million-yen question was, how did his fighter want him to unwrap it?

He turned to ask and found Nisei looking expectedly at him, pupils dilated with excitement.

- Ehm... – Seimei started and instantly spotted a silver envelope – Should I take it?

Nisei huffed.

- No, you should stare at it until it grows teeth and bites you.

And Nisei had the nerve to suggest it was *him* who had trouble dealing with people who didn't read his mind.

He picked the envelope up and began to open it. He rolled his eyes when Nisei propped his chin on his shoulder.

- Hurry up, hurry up.

- Get lost, you pest – he pushed the fighter's face off with his hand – I'm opening a present.

Nisei stepped aside, too thrilled to protest.

Seimei finally opened the envelope and took the contents out. On his palm were laying two plane tickets.

- What are these?

- Uhm... Tickets?

- Of course I know they're tickets. Why would you give my tickets?

- Isn't it rather obvious? – Nisei smiled slightly – To fly. I mean, they're plane tickets.

Seimei sighed in irritation and began to inspect the tickets closely. The destination said: Paris. And the date of departure was 15th February.

- Well? – Nisei asked in a small voice, playing with his fingers nervously.

- What 'well'? – Seimei gave him a hard look.

- Do you like them? – Nisei meekly pointed to the tickets.

- They're just like any other tickets – Seimei couldn't bring himself to show any of his excitement. Were they his present?

- No, they're not – Nisei corrected – They're Seimei's tickets to Paris. They're your Valentine's present.

Crap.

- Don't you like them? – Nisei's tone grew a little despaired – I know getting someone a ticket to Paris for the Valentine's is far more than cliché, but I really hoped – he faltered, waiting for Seimei's reaction, but continued after getting none – I hoped that it may be still nice to go there, I-I mean together and all...

Seimei listened to him only half-heartedly, too absorbed with the thought of actually 'going to Paris'. It was unbelievable how absolutely casual Nisei made it sound, as if it was normal to buy tickets on a whim and fly half the world in the middle of a week.

- I understand you don't want to – Nisei babbled – I guess Paris is overrated, with millions of tourists and everything. I kinda planned to take you to the Louvre and on a cruise down the Seine, but we don't have to use the tickets or I can buy new ones, to someplace you will enjoy more, I've heard Australia's beautiful this time of year...

Seimei shook his head. Gods, Nisei was really silly sometimes. How could he believe Seimei may not want to see Paris? It was just an ease with which Nisei spoke about spending his money on whatever could please Seimei that made him a little uncomfortable. The Aoyagis hadn't been well-off, with only the father working, so it would probably never cease to amaze Seimei just how rich and totally unconcerned with it Nisei was.

Seimei strolled to the door, making Nisei babble even more, bordering on begging Seimei to let him buy new tickets. He stopped there and smirked at the fighter over his shoulder.

- What are you waiting for? The departure is in less than six hours, we have to pack.

- Seimei! You're the best! – Nisei shrieked and jumped at his unsuspecting sacrifice's back, sending them both crashing on the floor.

- Get. Off. You. Idiot.

...

The taxi left them somewhere in the centre of the city. Seimei had been trying his best to appear totally indifferent about the sights they had been passing through a window during the ride from the Charles de Gaulle Airport, but he could swear Nisei had felt his admiration. The city was everything he had ever imagined and more.

- Welcome to the Place De La Concorde – Nisei smiled, motioning ahead with his hand – Feel free to gape, but please try to stay discreet about it, we don't want to look like villagers from the province – he smirked, what earned him a smack to his head.

- I don't gape.

- Ya, ya – Nisei raised his arms in defeat – You aerate your mouth.

- Shut up or you'll be carrying all the suitcases – Seimei threatened, but knew it remained an empty threat. Even a fighter, and especially Nisei, wouldn't be able to handle four big suitcases.

- As you wish – Nisei began leading the way across the square – On the left you can see the Egyptian obelisk, the so-called Luxor Obelisk, decorated with hieroglyphs exalting the reign of the pharaoh Ramses II, the one who built the Temple of Abu Simbel, whose wife was famous Nefertari... In fact, the more appropriate way to pronounce his name is Ramesses, it just depends on a transcription...

The obelisk really made an impression. Seimei actually stopped to take in the sight, once again amazed by Nisei's knowledge.

- Just tell me if I bore you – Nisei proposed, leaning on a suitcase – I can go on and on for hours.

- I know from the autopsy – Seimei smirked – I do admit the monument is magnificent, but can't we come back later, after we get rid of the luggage? – he expected his fighter to agree and call another taxi, but Nisei only shook his head.

- Nope.

- Why's that? – Seimei huffed, ready to scold the idiot.

- Tell me what you see over there – Nisei put an arm on Seimei's shoulders, steering him into the right direction.

- A square.

- Not that. Further away.

- A street. Nisei, it's ridiculous.

- You've almost got it. And, next to the street? It's called Rue Royale by the way.

- A building. And another one on the opposite side, now call the taxi – Seimei snapped irritated.

- Exactly! – Nisei beamed – That one is the French Naval Ministry and the other one is the Hôtel de Crillon. We're staying there.

...

Seimei was standing agape at the entrance to their room. Well, a room was an understatement. It was a fucking chamber.

- Ehm... – Nisei ducked his head – Do you approve? I'm sorry I didn't ask first, but I wanted to surprise you.

Did he approve? Stupid question.

- Of course I do – he managed to sound indifferent – If only you'd take such liberties to please me rather than anger me more often...

- Splendid! – Nisei clapped his hands, unceremoniously dropping the suitcases to the floor – Make yourself comfortable, I need to use bathroom – he dashed out.

Seimei turned around slowly, trying to notice every little thing in the room. It was dripping gold, but not in a bad way. He unhurriedly strolled to a white armchair standing next to a big French window looking out on the Champs-Élysées. He took his time admiring the view and then settled down, crossing his legs at ankles. He heard Nisei returning, but didn't turn back.

The sacrifice felt his fighter's presence just behind the armchair, but didn't deem him more interesting than the famous boulevard.

- You look like a king sitting on this armchair – Nisei breathed. Seimei spared him a glance, instantly spotting the adoration. He smirked, content with himself.

- Do I?

- Yes. Like a king of the old, ruling from his throne, great in his absolute power – Nisei whispered, emotion colouring his tone – Merciful for those who are useful for him, unforgiving for traitors, menacing for enemies... Aware of his superiority, of being the Anointed One...

Seimei's smirk broadened and he raised his eyebrow.

- You really are a king. 'I see upon their noble brows the seal of the Lord, for they were born kings of the earth far more truly than those who possess it only from having bought it.'

Seimei shifted, giving Nisei an indulgent look.

- You truly think I'm a king – he stated and saw confirmation in his fighter's eyes – Very well. What does it make you?

Nisei fell to his knees gracefully.

- Your most faithful servant – he gently laid his hand on Seimei's thigh, but the sacrifice smacked it away, wrinkling his nose.

- Really? – came a chilly question.

Nisei averted his eyes, but felt Seimei's hard glare. He squirmed a little, ducking his head. Finally, he lowered himself even more to the floor, so his forehead was hovering above Seimei's feet.

- Your slave – he choked out, whimpering – Your most loyal dog, one that will bark, wag its tail, bite and lick at your command. One that will do anything to earn a pat to its head.

Seimei smirked and reached with his hand to grab Nisei's hair, forcing his face up.

- I'm glad you haven't forgotten – he smiled, starting to pet his fighter's head. Nisei leaned into his touch. For minutes, they stayed like that: the Master sitting on his throne, the Slave kneeling next to it.

Finally, Seimei stood up.

- I'll share something with you – he started, playing idly with a strand of black hair, causing Nisei to lock his pupils with his own – Something that shall remain a secret forever. Can you keep it? – he inquired sternly.

Nisei nodded fiercely.

- Yes, I can. I'll never reveal it. I'll treasure it as a proof you trust me.

- Good – Seimei crouched, put his hands on Nisei's thin hips and hoisted him up – When you're this good, you get a reward – he lifted Nisei up and carried him to a king-size bed.

He dropped him in the middle of it, spread his lanky legs and settled between them. Silently, he pulled Nisei's top off and began to caress his chest.

- You shall always be my slave – he announced, twisting Nisei's nipple – For as a king, I shall never trust anyone around me. Everyone desires my power and plots to overthrow me – Nisei tried to voice his protest, but Seimei's hard gaze stopped him – Everyone realises how much they can gain by getting close to the king, so they have to be kept at distance. No one can get to know enough to manipulate the king, therefore I shall never let anyone close – Nisei choked back a sob and Seimei smirked – No one but my slave, who will never achieve anything without me and my favour – he bent down to bite Nisei's neck – Who would be nothing if he wasn't my pet. Who doesn't need to play me to get close, so I know his love and devotion is pure. Who owes me everything, because he understands that without my guidance his own mind would fail him and leave him helpless and vulnerable to the world.

Seimei attacked Nisei's mouth and everything got reduced to their mingled tastes and impatient hands.

- Do you understand what I've said? That you shall only ever be my lover as my slave? – Seimei had Nisei's wrists pinned above the fighter's head.

- I do – Nisei licked his lips – There's only one single thing I desire more than freedom. It's you.

- Good. We're one. Beloved.

- Beloved – Nisei repeated – I love you. You're my Alexander and I'm your Bagoas. The king and the slave.

- Of course – Seimei sat up, grinning – So, my Bagoas, how are you going to entertain your great Iskandar?

...

The End


End file.
